


Sugar and Spice

by Adarian



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:31:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6297229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of Varric's informants lets him know that Merrill is becoming a regular visitor at the Qunari compound and has been spending coin more freely. Varric's mind immediately jumps to the worst case scenario and he runs off to protect her. Once he realizes his imagination has gotten away from him, it occurs to him that he may have feelings for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sugar and Spice

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the Merrill/Varric prompt dump. We have your favorite pieces of trash here. Come join me in my tiny little ship.

_The Kinkmeme informed me that Merrill has this line: "More demons. Feynriel's dreams draw them like pastries draw Varric." Of course I was going to pick a prompt about food, guys. OF COURSE_

Varric looked over his desk, frowning. "Sorry, say that again?"

The thug said sheepishly, "She's been going to the Qunari compound a lot lately. Couple of times a week maybe."

"What would she be doing there?" Varric asked in confusion. "She's a Dalish mage, they should be tossing her off the docks or trying...they're not trying to convert her, are they?"

"I don't think so. But I have to say, she seems to have a lot more coin lately. She's been buying a lot more groceries than in the past according to my sources. Expensive stuff too, like sugar and cinnamon. I mean, I don't want to say anything bad about your girl or nothing-"

"She's not my girl," Varric corrected, "and if you're suggesting what I think you're trying to suggest, consider yourself fired."

"Look, you asked me to keep my ear out for her and I'm telling you what I've heard. The elf may be making some coin with the Qunari giving some stress relief. They do that, you know? All sorts of free lov-"

"Get out of my office. Now."

The man shuffled off and Varric groaned, running his hand through his hair. Damn it. Merrill had been in the city for two years and he had managed to keep her out of trouble. Which was not easy when she picked flowers from Hightown gardens, tried to befriend Templars, and openly practiced her magic to amuse crying children. He adored her and wanted to keep her safe. And it was her choice if she wanted to...well. But if she was running out of coin, he had to intervene or she was going to get hurt by one of the brutes. She was so tiny, one of them might tear her in two.

Maker, what if they were taking advantage of her? 

Not able to settle, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. It wasn't a mature response, he knew that. But if anyone was hurting Daisy, he wasn't going to let it stand. He'd fight the Arishok himself if it meant she was safe. 

Varric was nearly at the compound when he saw Merrill coming from the other side, a big basket in hand. She stopped at the gates and a Sten allowed her in, bowing his head slightly to her. She curtsied back before going in.

Varric raced after her, but the Sten stopped him.

"What business have you with the Qun?" He demanded.

"Sorry, my friend just went in and she dropped something."

"You are friends with the nomseyar?" He asked excitedly. "Please, go in."

Varric raised an eyebrow and entered the gates. There were many things his wild imagination came up with to torment him, but he never would have suspected what lay before him.

Merrill was wandering through the compound, the cover now off her basket. She stopped at each soldier and chatted with them amicably as they took a cookie or two from her. She knelt when she reached the Arishok who nodded his head in respect to her. She brought out a special cake to him and his attendants glanced over in envy. Merrill however did still give them treats as well.

Eventually she turned and noticed him. "Varric? What are you doing here?"

He cleared his throat. "Here to...help you?"

"Well, I'm nearly done," Merrill said. "I should have made more! With all the new viddathari, I'm going to have to bake twice as much next time."

The Arishok turned to his right hand attendant. "Pay the nomseyar three extra sovereigns for her care."

"Oh that's not necessary," Merrill said, waving him off. "I just like bringing a little sunshine into your days. You must get so tired of being stuck in here."

"Pay the woman, Karasten."

Merrill took the gold and put it in her pocket. She waved to the Qunari as she left and Varric was shocked to see a few of the younger members wave back. Varric offered to accompany her home, making an excuse about needing to head that direction. She very happily agreed. 

Merrill asked, "Are you alright, Varric?"

"I'm surprised," Varric admitted.

"Apparently they don't have cookies in Seheron. Isn't that wild? Well, one of the Karasaad got lost a few weeks ago in the Alienage so I invited him in for tea and he told the Arishok who asked me to bring him some treats. It's been a lot of fun and he's been so nice to pay for my ingredients."

Varric inwardly groaned and she continued, "You weren't worried about me, were you? I told you, I'm doing just fine in Kirkwall all on my own."

"One of my people thought that you might be...well...you know?"

"Might be what, Varric?"

"Never mind, Daisy. I'm being a fool."

"It's sweet how much you care," she said, blushing slightly. "But you don't need to be so protective of me. I can take care of myself."

"You're right," Varric admitted. 

"Would you like to come over? I saved a few cookies for you. I was going to surprise you with them tonight, but you might as well have them now while they're still hot."

Varric smiled. "I'd like that."

"And Varric?"

"Yes, Daisy?"

"You can tell Daniel he doesn't need to make sure I get home safe at night. It might save you a little bit of coin. It's sweet of you, but the poor boy is hoping to marry his sweetheart in Starkhaven next month and he's too nervous to quit."

"You talk to him?" Varric asked, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

"Well, I noticed him after the first two weeks," Merrill explained. "I was trying to pretend I didn't notice him, I didn't want to make him think he was bad at his job but the one night he just looked so cold so I brought him some hot tea and we got talking. He's very sweet, I'll miss him, but he's promised he'll write."

Varric only realized he had stopped walking when Merrill stopped and asked, "Are you alright, Varric? You look a little faint."

Varric also realized he was blushing. "Nothing, just...I guess I don't need to be so protective of you as I thought I did. I feel really foolish."

"It's very nice of you. The Arishok thinks so too."

"You...talked to the Arishok....about me?" Varric stammered.

"Oh yes, he's an excellent listener once you get past his condemnation of everyone who lives in the city. He's really quite nice."

Varric wanted to pinch himself. This was not what he imagined storming out of the Hanged Man, expecting to punch out the leader of the Qunari people and rescue Merrill, confessing his love for her while she swooned in his arms.

"Merrill," he asked slowly, "have I made you uncomfortable? Because I didn't mean to. I just worry about you. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Creators, no," she insisted. "It's not like you don't do anything for me that you don't do for the rest of our friends. But you don't need to worry about me. You should worry about Anders or Fenris or anyone else. Maybe Isabela, she gets into all sorts of trouble, but she seems to always get herself out of it..."

Merrill continued talking as they walked home and Varric just listened, still feeling ridiculous. He liked to think of himself as a rational person, but the minute Daisy was involved, he would go overboard. Granted, Merrill couldn't love the world into becoming safe for her, but she was doing a decent job of it. 

And honestly, how did he think she was turning to sex work to pay the bills? The girl blushed anytime Isabela so much as winked at her. And if she was, he had no right to be jealous. Which is what he had been, if he was being honest with himself. 

The acknowledgment made him feel sleazy. Merrill was too good for him, too sweet, too...too Merrill. 

They made it into house and Merrill went into the kitchen to put on the kettle. Varric sat nervously down on her couch. She returned with a dish filled with delicate pastries, grinning.

"The Arishok gives me enough that I can make some extra sweets," she said cheerfully. "And I know these are your favourites."

"Daisy, you should keep some of that money for yourself," Varric said.

"Go on, eat one, tell me if they're any good," she encouraged. 

Varric took a big bite out of one of them. He didn't care that he felt jelly run down his chin. It was delicious. He moaned slightly and she passed him a napkin. He wiped his face before devouring the rest.

"I'm so glad you like them," she said. "I was worried I wouldn't get it right like that bakery around your corner, but I asked the owner and he traded me for my seed bread recipe. I never had that much butter growing up, so I was worried it would be a bit too greasy."

"This is perfect," he said between mouthfuls.

"Well, you're always so nice to me, I wanted to return the favour. I'm surprised no one buys you danishes, you're always staring at them whenever we walk by. I know it's not quite the same, but still. You deserve nice things and you don't treat yourself enough."

The tips of her ears turned pink as she offered a second. He couldn't resist taking it.


	2. Foolish and Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric finally listens to Merrill and agrees to stop having people watch over her. Unfortunately, it picks the worst possible time to do so. Kink meme request. I promise Merrill is safe and Varric is a BAMF.

**tw: threat of non-con.**

Despite thinking Lowtown was perfectly safe, Merrill typically no longer took shortcuts. Daniel had made her promise, as did the three other nice young men that Varric had hired over the past two years. They had all grown fond of her and Tyrone even dropped in every other week for tea and biscuits. But Merrill had insisted that she could take of herself and Varric had seemed to grudgingly agree. 

Of all their gang of friends, Merrill knew she was the least interesting target. She wasn't the only apostate in the Alienage. Creators, she wasn't even the only blood mage in the Alienage. As long as she kept in visible light and was among others she trusted, she had nothing to fear from the rest of Lowtown. There were enough safe havens for her in the neighbourhood if she ever found herself in trouble and needed to hide. 

After hearing all her arguments, Varric agreed to stop paying someone to keep an eye on her at night. She thought he looked rather sheepish, almost like a little mabari puppy with his tail between his legs. It was almost sweet, really, even if it was patronizing. She was trying not to take it personally, Varric did the same for all of them, but she was a grown woman. She could look after herself. 

It was fairly late that night when she and Anders were strolling back from the tavern. They were bickering, as often initiated when he was frustrated. She was an easy target in his eyes and she often just played along, knowing that it was never really about her and he never said anything too cruel. Creators, she had heard worse from her own clan and kin. 

Suddenly Anders grew quiet and put his hand over Merrill's mouth. She looked over his shoulder, seeing the Templars marching towards them. Merrill took his hand and led him into a back alley. They both pressed against the wall, listening as the troop passed.

"They're here somewhere," one barked. "Barricade the streets. Let no one escape."

Merrill glanced at Anders nervously. Where they looking for him or her? Probably him. Definitely him. Why would anyone be looking for her?

Anders gripped her hand and she signaled him to follow her. They crept through the backstreet and into another lane. A few late night traders glanced at them briefly before returning to their business.

"We're not far from Gamlen's," she whispered. "I know where his spare key is."

They snuck into the shack and Merrill locked the door behind them. They both ignored a drunk Gamlen snoring on the couch, a cat sleeping on his belly. Anders went into the kitchen and made them both of a cup of tea. They sat in front of the fireplace, trying to ignore the heavy footsteps of the Templars outside. 

"Do you think they're looking for us?" Merrill asked.

Anders disagreed, "I think it's just a raid. If they were going to come after us that near Hawke, they would have done so with less people around. They've been doing sweeps of Darktown all week. I'm not surprised they're moving out. They might be looking for me, but I'm not a hard person to find."

"You should stay here tonight," Merrill said. "When it's quiet, I'm going to head back. I'm just a few minutes from here and I'll take the back ways, I know them well enough. I should keep my door open, in case one of our people need a place to hide."

"Be careful," Anders pleaded. 

"I will be," Merrill reassured. "Stay here, don't let anyone come inside." 

Merrill pulled her cloak around her and peered out the window, seeing the Templars enter a house across the courtyard. She slipped out and ducked between houses, finding her way back to the Alienage. On the edge of the neighbourhood, she hesitated, seeing two of them near her home. She gripped her amulet nervously and whispered a quick prayer. 

Merrill walked slowly forward, wishing she were as stealthy as Isabela. She looked for an open door or window, but saw nothing. She tried to slip into a shadowy section, but accidentally tripped over a stone. 

One turned to face her and she took her knife out of her belt, pushing it into her palm. But the Silence hit her first and she fell, gasping for breath. She tried to cut her skin but the Templar kicked it away, easily picking her up by her throat. 

"She's a pretty little thing for an abomination," he commented almost apathetically.

His female companion agreed, "Not too bad for a knife ear."

Merrill kicked him in the crotch, but the armour blocked her attack, only damaging her toes. She gasped for air and he pushed her up against the wall, tying her hands behind her back. 

"And the legs on her," he chuckled. "Pale as the moonlight. Wouldn't mind seeing those wrapped around you, would you?"

"You'll get your chance at her in the Circle, cadet, keep your mind on the task ahead. We've probably got a host of these blood mages in this den. Bring her back to the others."

"Just a bit of fun first. Give her a last thrill. It's not as much fun when they don't scream anymore. You'd like that, wouldn't you, rabbit? A little fun?"

And then suddenly she heard something whizz against her ear and the Templar turned, only to have a bolt go straight through his forehead. Merrill fell to her knees. She heard a few other familiar voices. Hawke, she definitely could hear Hawke. She felt a coat draped over her and she looked up, seeing Varric kneeling in front of her. Only with his hands on her shoulders did she let herself cry. She sobbed and he held her. She was too in shock to hear whatever he was saying, but just the sound of his voice comforted her. She was safe. He came for her. He always came for her. 

When the battle was over, Varric helped her to her feet, buckling his coat over her ruined clothes. The others spoke to her, but she couldn't register anything that they said. Varric started to lead her back to her home, but she shook her head, unable to ask anything other than, "Anders?"

"He's okay," Hawke reassured. "He's fine. It's over, Merrill."

"Can I stay with you?" Merrill whispered to Varric.

"Of course, Daisy," he murmured. "Come on, let's go home."

***

Merrill bathed, but the feeling of the Templar's skin on hers wouldn't go away. She had been lucky, she knew that. She could have been killed and he could have...finished what he started. But she had never been so afraid, so utterly vulnerable. 

When the water grew cold, she wrapped herself in the clothes Isabela had lent her, all far too big for her. She entered the rest of Varric's suite, the dwarf writing furiously at his desk while snarling out orders to a few of his employees. At seeing her, he sent them away, clearly furious.

She started, "I'm sorry, I-"

Varric shut the door and took her hands in his. "Daisy, you have nothing to be sorry for, do you hear me? None of this was your fault."

"I told you that I could take of myself and I-"

"None of this was your fault," he insisted. "You didn't do anything wrong. This was some stupid son of a bitch who thought he'd try to squeeze in on Lowtown, try to push me and Hawke out. Sounds like he tipped off some Templars, but they're going to have a lot to answer for, assaulting civilians in their own homes. This is...this is my fault, Daisy. They came after you because of me." 

"You saved my life," she protested. 

Varric said nothing, walking back to his desk. Merrill sat on the edge of the bed, watching him work angrily. She lay on her side and Varric finally sat down beside her, his hand rubbing her hip.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly.

She shook her head. 

"Do you need a healer? Did he..."

Merrill shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

She murmured, "I was so proud. The Keeper always said that Pride would be my downfall. I always thought she meant a spirit."

Varric whispered, "Merrill, you did nothing wrong. You should be blaming me. You should be throwing things at me. I promised to keep you safe and I failed you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry this happened to you."

Merrill started to cry harder and Varric lay beside her, holding her tightly to him. She buried her face in his shoulder, desperately clinging to him. 

Once when she was young there was a woman in her clan that had been assaulted by a shemlen man and was too afraid to speak to any of that gender for months after. Merrill worried she might feel the same, but this was Varric. Varric was a good man, maybe the best she knew. He would never hurt her.

"I don't want to go back," she whispered.

"You don't have to," he promised. "You'll stay here with me until Hawke deals with that bastard. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Varric pulled the blankets around them. She shivered and turned to face him, burying her face in his chest. She started crying again and he stroked her face.

"You're safe, Daisy," he murmured. 

She whispered, "I should have stayed with Anders. I promised you I would be careful and then I go out by myself. I'm sorry."

Varric's breath hitched and she looked up at him while he wiped her tears away.

"Get some rest," he said gently, starting to pull away.

"Please don't leave me," she whispered.

Merrill lay on his chest, closing her eyes. She knew Varric. He wouldn't sleep a wink that night, but she was exhausted, just so utterly tired, and she just wanted him beside her. 

She realized she was being selfish and apologized, "Sorry, you don't have to."

"You'll feel better in the morning," he reassured, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Just close your eyes. I'm not going anywhere."

Merrill was surprised how easily she drifted off, listening to Varric's heartbeat.

***

Varric reached for his crossbow when he heard the door open. He only lowered it when he saw Hawke walk in, her face worn and weary. 

"Whiskey?" She asked hoarsely.

He poured them both a glass and led her to the dining table. Hawke sat down and drank it in one gulp. 

"It's handled," Hawke said quietly.

Hawke was a gentle woman, a kind one, almost soft in her mannerisms despite her life of hardship. But her voice gave him chills. He saw the look in her eyes. Someone had threatened two of the people she loved most in the world. That had consequences, ones that the usurper would not have survived. 

"How is he?" Varric asked. "Anders."

"Okay," Hawke said. "Blames himself, but he's always been a martyr. How is she?"

Varric glanced into the bedroom, seeing Merrill lying still as the grave in his blankets. He looked back at Hawke, who poured herself a second glass.

"You haven't slept a wink, have you?" She asked.

He shook his head. "No. I don't know if I can ever again. If I weren’t such an idiot, this wouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have shown any weakness, shown her any favour. These assholes will destroy anything, any scrap of goodness in this world just to make some extra coin, to make a name for themselves. I can't even imagine forgiving myself, Hawke."

Hawke put her hand on his. "Just take care of her."

They heard Merrill stir and Varric stood, walking back over to the bed. Merrill smiled weakly at him and his heart raced.

"Daisy," he whispered.

Hawke knelt in front of Merrill and explained what had happened, that Anders was safe, and she could go home. Varric stayed out of the way until Hawke left, leaning against the wall. Merrill came back over to him, touching his cheek.

"I know, I gotta shave," he joked tiredly.

"Hawke and Isabela are going to take me back to my house and make sure everything is alright there. I...maybe you could come over tonight? We could have dinner, if I have any food, and maybe we could just talk. I don't really want to be by myself, but I know you have a lot of things you probably need to do."

"I need a nap and then I've got to see a few people," he said, "but I'll be over when I'm done. You don't have to cook, I'll bring you dinner. Will you be okay?" 

"Isabela will stay with me for a bit, I'll be alright."

She kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly. He embraced her, closing his eyes. She let go and left the room, meeting Isabela on the stairs. When she was out of sight, he finally drank his whiskey and went to bed. 

***

Merrill and Isabela talked for hours. It wasn't as if everything was all better, but she felt reassured. She was safe, she was loved, and while what had happened might hurt her for a very long time, it was over. Isabela shared her own nightmares, her own memories, and Merrill felt as if she could breathe. 

Merrill was never alone during the day. Her Alienage sisters, even those she rarely spoke to, dropped by to insist that she need only call on them for whatever she needed. A few brought her water, tea, and other drinks. She felt comforted, even if she was still afraid.

She walked to the place it had happened, pressing her hand against the wall. She could feel her fear again, but she breathed through it, knowing it was over. 

Isabela was right, it might hurt for a long time, but she already knew she could survive it. She already had. 

Varric came over that night and the two talked only a little, both exhausted from the past day. Eventually, they fell asleep in Merrill's bed completely clothed. He would visit her most nights for the next few weeks. He didn't always stay over, but Merrill always slept best when he did.


	3. Sweet and Steady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now back to our regularly scheduled fluff

Varric was once told a man didn't know his limits until they were about to smack him in the face. It was in regards to drinking, but it felt like it applied here too. For about a month, he had spent most nights sharing a bed with Merrill. Platonically. And that was fine, it really was. The woman had been through an ordeal, one that he had put her through. She trusted him and cared for him and he would never do anything to even remotely risk breaking that trust.

His body, however, was starting to get other ideas. It was growing used to how she felt under his hands, what her breath felt like against his neck, the softness of her touch when she sleepily reached out for him. It was comforting, yes, sweet, yes, tender, yes, but it was also far too arousing. He had feelings for her, ones that he had wisely pushed away, and he could handle that. But his body had other ideas and sooner or later, he wouldn't be able to hide running off first thing in the morning or uncomfortably turning away from her if she got a bit too snuggly. Nor would he be able to explain not being able to sleep because his heart was pounding too hard because all he wanted to do was touch her. He was even dreaming about it, which was dangerous on its own. He had already once woken her accidentally moaning her name in his sleep. He didn't want to relive that.

Varric unburdened himself to Hawke over pints at the Hanged Man and the mage suggested a simple solution: why didn't he just ask her out?

There were, in truth, several reasons he had written off that possibility. For one, he was not a good match for her. He was a decade older, a dwarf, involved in unsavory business, and was still somewhat entangled with his ex. He drank, he cursed, he wrote...salacious literature-just to pay the bills, of course-and was in general not that sort of man that mothers loved to see their daughters bring home. Never mind a stern prudish Dalish clan leader who was already suspicious of her former First's new friends. In their culture, sex was only something that happened between bonded mates. In fact, just having sex with someone was enough for the Creators to view them as married. Dating was a foreign concept. 

Second, he cared about her and didn't want to ruin what they had. Merrill was a skittish thing and he knew if he made an advance, she might not reciprocate and no longer feel comfortable around him. He couldn't risk hurting her, especially after the attack. She needed him...and he needed her. Emotionally, that was. Sex was something that he would just have to forget about. For now, at least. 

Hawke took in these answers with a raised eyebrow, not understanding the problem. She was one of those love conquers all types. Varric hated those. 

And it wasn't love. He knew that. Love was being hung up on a girl for years that was married to someone else. It was longing and angst and the slow crumbling of your heart. What he felt for Merrill was basically friendship, except he wanted to kiss her and was having inappropriate thoughts about her. Like making love to her. Like marrying her. Like holding their first child in his arms. Like holding their sixth. 

Shit. 

Varric thought this over, pretending he was considering his next move at Wicked Grace. He should tell her. Hiding it from her seemed cruel, even if he was trying to protect her. He was going over there tonight anyways. He could pick up a bottle of wine, maybe some flowers. Bring over a nice dinner since she hated cooking and he was terrible at it. Varric would tell her that he had feelings for he and she would politely turn him down. Then they could move on. The sleeping in the same bed would stop, but at least then he could stop feeling like a letch. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Like ripping off a bandage.

***

Varric felt like a teenager, showing up at her door with a bag full of dishes from Alesse, the finest Orleasian restaurant in town. He had debated about the flowers too, but finally went with a handful of the sweet little wildflowers that had inspired her nickname. He could pretend they were just a thoughtful gesture. He had been walking and saw them, just had to pick them for her, she needed a little greenery.

She answered the door, beaming. "Varric, you didn't have to!"

Varric entered, trying to hide his nervousness. "It's no trouble. Let me set up."

She took the flowers from him. "I'll find a mug for them."

Merrill ended up filling up an ale glass with water and let the flowers bask in the sunshine. She joined him at the table excitedly.

"I could have cooked," she insisted.

"You hate cooking," he reminded. "It takes too much time."

"Well, I've got work to do," she said. "Mirrors don't fix themselves, nor do Dalish texts translate into Common. And Anders needs my help smuggling out-right, I'm not supposed to talk about that. Bread?"

Varric realized he had forgotten the wine. "Sure."

"So what's the occasion?" Merrill asked, putting her dinged dishes on the table.

Varric said nervously, "Just thought I'd spoil you."

Merrill smiled shyly. "You're too sweet."

"How has it been working out with the new guy?" Varric asked, trying to focus on filling his plate.

"Good," Merrill said. "James is very nice, very quiet, but I like his smile. A lot of the women in the building next door think he's very pretty, but I don't see it too much."

"He's not getting too distracted?" Varric asked suspiciously.

"Oh no," Merrill reassured. "He's making us all feel safer. We were all shaken after...you know. The fact he's elven helps too. We always get nervous when human men are around. You're different though, of course. Dwarves and elves don't have a long history of interacting, you know. I've only found one reference to a dwarf in any of the oral histories of the Dalish."

"And what about them?"

"Apparently she was very hairy, couldn't speak, and tried to steal their gold. It was not a very flattering portrait of your kind."

"Sounds like us though," Varric joked.

He could barely taste his food and kept pushing it around on his plate. Eventually Merrill asked, "What's wrong? You don't look well."

"I'm fine," he reassured.

They talked and ate until the night grew dark and the candles burned low.

Merrill started clearing the table and Varric tried to collect himself. It was now or never, and never wasn't an option anymore.

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" She asked. "It's getting cold out there."

"Let's sit in front of the fire for a bit," he said. "I'm not ready for bed."

"Do you have the next chapter ready?" Merrill asked excitedly. 

"Daisy, you are the only person I know who'd rather hear my romance serials than the latest Hard in Hightown. You know I only write these for money, right?"

"But they're fun," she insisted. "I like them and you do the voices so well."

"I don't have it written down yet, but I can tell you what happens."

"Go sit, I'll be right back with a blanket."

Varric went to her big easy chair, a housewarming gift from Hawke. It was really the only piece of furniture she had in her living room and Varric had kept meaning to buy her a couch or love seat or something for guests that weren't just chairs dragged from the kitchen. 

But to be honest, he loved that chair. It was far too big to really be just for one person, unless you were the hulk of a woman Hawke was. 

When Merrill came back, they settled by the fire as they had for weeks. Merrill would sit in his lap, weighing so little. She would lean on his shoulder as he read to her, slowly drifting off. It would be hard to concentrate with her breath against his neck and his stories were slowly growing shorter and shorter. 

When Varric reached the end of his planned chapter, Merrill gave him a quick peck on the cheek and rose, yawning. "Bed time."

She started towards her bedroom, discarding her clothes in the basket by the water closet. Varric looked away and she put on her nightshirt. She started cleaning her teeth, using the shattered Eluvian to make sure she hadn't missed a spot. He needed to get her a mirror too, one that she didn't have to wiggle around in to see.

"Daisy," Varric started.

She rinsed out her mouth and put her twigs and charcoal away. She turned to face him and he realized she was wearing the shirt he had given her a few weeks ago when she had didn't feel safe going home that late. It clung to her, coming to just past her hips. And in the back of his mind he remembered the Dalish didn't wear underclothes.

He cleared his throat. "Daisy, there's something I've got to talk to you about first."

"I knew something was wrong," she said. "I washed your briefs from the last time you were here. I think the colour ran a little bit, but they're comfortable enough to sleep in I think. Let's talk under the covers, it's getting too cold."

Varric touched her wrist. "I can't anymore."

Merrill frowned and he tried to explain himself, "I feel like I'm being a bad friend if I sleep in the same bed with you right now. I want to be there for you and I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I don't want to keep anything from you. Merrill, I like you."

"I like you too, what's the problem?" She asked.

"No," he sighed. "I'm attracted to you."

Seeing her confusion, he clarified. "Sexually attracted to you."

"Oh," she murmured.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That's not a bad thing, is it?" Merrill asked. "I have to admit, I've noticed from time to time but I thought you were just dreaming. Men do that in their dreams, I saw it all the time when we shared tents together growing up. It makes sense with all the snuggling. I'm not worried about it."

Varric had no idea what to say to that. "So...we're okay?"

"Just fine," she said, smiling. "Glad we sorted that out."

She was just pulling back her meager covers when she paused. "Varric?"

"Yes?" He asked nervously.

She inquired, "Do you want to have sex with me?"

He admitted, "It's...crossed my mind."

In the thirty seconds it took her to respond, he thought he was going to die. His heart was about to throttle him. 

"Okay," she said.

"Okay?" He asked breathlessly.

"No, I don't mean like that," she said, her ears turning pink. "Just...thank you for telling me. Sometimes, well, I think about it too. It's good to know that we can...Creators, is it suddenly warm in here?"

Varric asked, "You think about me?"

Merrill admitted, "It's hard not to. You're so strong and witty and you make me feel so safe. I just thought you wouldn't be ever interested in me, that way at least. Or any way, really."

Varric wanted to pull her shirt over her head and kiss every inch of her. He wanted to make her happy, so ridiculously happy she'd never leave their bed again. He wanted her to say his name in that sweet voice of hers, again and again.

"What do you think about?" Varric asked.

Merrill blushed further. "This is embarrassing."

"It's me," he reassured. "You can tell me anything."

"I sometimes think about what it might be like to be bonded to you," Merrill admitted, sitting on the bed, her legs now on full display. "You're not what a Dalish woman looks for. You're not a hunter or a craftsman. I don't even know if we could have children, never mind knowing if they'd be raised as I was. I think I understand what you want, Varric. You're older than me and you have more experience. If I was a different woman, a dwarf like you, then maybe I could...but I can't give you what you want. I hope you'll still be my friend."

Merrill smiled sheepishly. "Now that we've both made fools of ourselves, time for bed?"

Varric sat beside her. "Daisy...what I was trying to say is that I have feelings for you. I wanted to ask you out but it seriously got away from me."

Merrill put her hand to her mouth and whispered, "You want to court me?"

Varric took a deep, nervous breath. "Yeah, I do."

He stroked her cheek and she leaned in. He could feel her quickened pulse under his fingers and he closed his eyes and brushed his lips against hers. 

Merrill pulled away and he asked, "Are you okay?"

"The Dalish don't date," she explained. "I don't know what you expect from me."

"All I want is to make you happy," he said, resting his forehead against hers. "I want to buy you any pretty thing you want. I want you to eat good food and fall asleep in a big comfy bed. I want you to feel safe and protected. I don't need anything else. I just want to take care of you."

"And no...sex?"

Varric agreed, "We won't do anything you don't want to."

She kissed him softly, pressing her hand against his chest. When they parted, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. She giggled as he kissed it too.

"So, what happens now?" Merrill asked.

"I don't know," Varric admitted. "I've never dated anyone before. There was only Bianca and that was...well, is less than romantic."

Merrill was surprised. "I thought you would have your pick."

"I'm choosy," he teased, running his hand through her hair. "I'd still like to sleep here, if you're okay with that. I promise I'll stay on my side of the bed."

"I like when you're beside me," she admitted.

He kissed her again and she grinned.

"I'll be back in a minute," he promised.

Varric dashed himself with as much cold water as he could before cleaning his teeth. And after. He meant what he said, he would never pressure her, even if his body was desperately pressuring him.

She was already asleep by the time he got back and he curled next to her. She rolled over, putting her head on his chest. He held her close. She was not a big woman, but she looked even smaller when she slept. The woman was a powerful mage, certainly, but she looked so vulnerable then. 

And she trusted him.

Varric laid his head back and sighed, unable to sleep. What _did_ happen next?


	4. Faith and Longing

**cw: self injury, just for a brief chat about blood magic**

Hawke looked at him in clear amusement. "You've got yourself in a pickle, don't you? What exactly does courting mean to her or to you? Your physical relationship isn't going to change any time soon probably so that's stalled. And then there's the romantic side of things. Dalish girls get bonded before they even get this far along. So what's the plan here, Varric? What's your end game here?" 

"I don't know," he admitted. "I like her, Hawke, I really do. But I'm freaking out."

"Why don't you just talk to her about it?" Hawke asked.

"Because I'm not good at that. I like buying her presents and making sure she's spoiled. I never got to do this stuff for B-er-anyone before. I don't want to mess it up by pushing for anything."

"But you want more," she pointed out, "and she might too, you know. You've got this idealized picture of you in your head, but she's a person too, she's got needs and feelings. Obviously she cares about you too....wait, you don't believe that, do you?"

"She deserves better than me," Varric commented quietly.

"You are a good guy," Hawke insisted, "and she gets to decide that for herself. Go talk to her, okay? I've got to do some work around town, I'll call on you later, okay?"

They both looked up, seeing Merrill at the doorway. The elf asked, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Hawke said, "Not at all. I'm just heading out. I'll see you both later."

Merrill closed the door behind her and greeted Varric with a soft kiss. She sat in his lap and he smiled into her neck.

"I thought we were meeting up tonight," he said.

"I missed you," she murmured, nuzzling against him. "You're working too hard lately. I thought I'd make you take a break, if I could convince you."

"Daisy, if the most task driven woman I know tells me I'm not giving her enough attention, then I am working too hard."

"Good," she said. "At first I was thinking a walk, but it's so rainy and you don't like the rain. So I brought over a few pastries and I thought I'd help you with your hands."

"My hands?" 

"Go sit on the bed," she instructed. 

He lifted her off him and did as she asked. She sat beside him, pulling out a small jar of cream from her bag. He held out his hand and she placed a dollop of it on his skin. She worked it into his palms and he sighed. 

"I used to do this for the fletchers," Merrill explained. "When you do the same task again and again, the muscles grow tight and sore. This should help them heal a bit better."

Her fingers were light and tender against his overworked hands. When the one was done, she switched to the second, concentrated in her task.

"Do you do anything for your skin?" Varric asked. "It heals well after all the...well, you know."

Merrill glanced at him only briefly before continuing her task. "I do not use blood magic nearly as much as you might believe and I usually cut in more fleshy bits so it heals faster. But yes, there are lotions I use to help the scars."

"I've never noticed any," Varric admitted.

Merrill lifted up the hem of her tunic, showing the thin white lines on her pale skin. She pulled it back down and returned to massaging his hands.

"I understand if you might feel uncomfortable with it," Merrill said quietly.

"I'm not fond of it, but I'm mostly worried about you," he admitted.

"You don't need to," she reassured. "I have not had to in a very long time."

When she was finished, she kissed both of his hands and smiled at him. "Better?"

He flexed his fingers, realizing how much tension they had been carrying. 

"Now, no more writing for the day," she said. "You need to rest your fingers."

Varric had quite vivid ideas of what he wanted to do with his fingers right then, but he kept the thought to himself. "Maybe you could write for me."

"My handwriting is terrible," she giggled, "your publisher would have no idea what you were talking about."

"He might think I was suddenly a literary genius."

He kissed her and she pulled her legs up onto the bed. He deepened the kiss, stroking her ears. She gasped slightly, a flush crossing her face. 

"I...um...," she stammered. "I..."

Varric pulled away. "Sorry, I-"

"No," she reassured, "it's fine. Just. I meant what I said, before. I'm interested, I am, really, it's just...the Dalish think that...I think that...sex is what bonds someone to another. There's a ceremony too, but its the actual getting together that marks you before the Creators."

"Tell me about it," Varric said. "Really, I want to understand."

Merrill thought about it and that sweet smile crossed her face, the one that did only when she was telling a story. He loved that smile.

"When we were immortal, few children were born each year," she explained, "and each of them was deeply wanted. Many of my people did not even crave sex but sought their pleasures elsewhere. It said that then only true love kindled the urge. When soul mates found each other, they would celebrate for days on end. They would seek only to please the other and bring them joy. Meeting each other physically was a sign to the Gods that they had chosen someone to spend eternity with. It was meant to be a celebration of body and soul together, a merging of spirits. Before we began to fade, at least. So it is an ideal, among my kind, to live our lives as our ancestors did. We bond only once and have only one partner our entire lives. We have many children now, as our numbers dwindle, but each is a blessing."

She took his hands in hers again. "I care for you, Varric, but I know myself and what I believe. Even if you tempt me, I have made a promise in my own heart. Please...please understand that."

"But I...I want you to know," Merrill stammered. "Creators, I was doing so well there. I want you to know that I want to stay with you. Please do not leave me, though I would understand if you did. I'm not pretty or funny and I can't even do this for you. I'm sorry, Varric, maybe I should go back home."

Varric held her face in his hands. "Please don't, Daisy."

"We want different things," she protested.

He swallowed hard. "I think we want the same thing."

"Yes, but I can't-"

"Daisy, I'm in love with you."

She looked stunned as he continued, "I have been for a long time. I want what you want. I only want you, for all my life. I want to marry you, I want to have children with you, and I want to spend every day of my life making you happy."

A tear fell down her face and he murmured, "Shit, Daisy, I didn't mean to make you upset. Let's just forget I said anything." 

Merrill whispered, "I should go."

Varric's heart sank in his chest. "Merrill..."

"I have to think," Merrill said softly, "and I need to do that on my own. I'm sorry, Varric. I'm sorry."

Varric thought about chasing after her, but decided to let her go. If she needed to think, he'd give her time to think. And he was too pissed off at himself to make a good argument about why she should stick with him. 

He lay on his back, playing with his House ring. He should get back to work, but his heart wasn't in it. Instead he went to his second favourite hobby: drinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter, at the very most two, and we shall be done friends!


	5. Bedding and Wedding

Varric had seen a lot of shit in his life, but this...this was different. He had spent almost four years waiting to make his brother suffer for what he had done to them, but to find him so fragile, so...faded...

Varric didn't want to drink. He didn't want to stop feeling and he wanted to be sober for...well, for what? Bartrand was safe in the care of the Chantry now and while Blondie had assured him that he wasn't in any pain, it was unlikely that his memories would return to him. Bartrand was gone. Varric didn't like his brother, but he had loved him. And now all his family was gone. He was utterly alone. He had wanted to confide in Hawke, but he knew it would hit too close to home. The poor girl hadn't faired much better herself.

Who he really wanted was Merrill, but it had been weeks since he had seen her. He had dropped by her house the day after his confession, but she had said the same thing as before. She needed time to think. 

But he needed her and he was tempted to beg her to be with him then.

Thankfully, he didn't have to.

When the door opened and closed, he knew it was her. No one else's feet would pad so quietly and lightly against the floor. He didn't turn to see her, looking into the fire still, snapping the kindling to toss into the flames. Merrill sat beside him on the ground and took his hand in hers. 

"Anders told me about your brother," she said quietly. "He asked me if I knew of any magic to bring him back. Varric, I'm so sorry."

His voice caught in his throat. "Do you?"

Merrill shook her head. "No."

Varric closed his eyes and she kissed his cheek. He turned and kissed her lips softly, cupping her face. She kissed him back until eventually he pulled away.

"Varric," she murmured. "Forgive me for being so scared."

"You've done nothing wrong," he reassured. "I'm just glad you're here."

"I love you," she whispered.

Varric's heart skipped a beat and she blurted out quickly, "I do and I know it's not a romantic time to tell you that, but I know that if it was me going through what you're going through, I'd want to know that. Maybe it might help, I don't know." 

"It does," he said, a faint smile crossing his lips.

She kissed him again and he rested his forehead against hers.

"If there was anything I could do to take this pain from you, I would," she said softly. "If wish there was something I could do."

"You're here," Varric murmured. "That's what I need right now."

They stayed until the fire grew low and they went to bed. Varric had missed the feel of her and by the way she curled into him, he suspected that she had too. 

***

Varric didn't sleep long, waking while the embers still burned. He glanced over at Merrill who was still entangled in his arms. He stroked her back, the very touch of her skin soothing to him. She stirred and kissed him hungrily. He groaned into her mouth, running his hands through her hair.

He whispered, "I want you so badly it's killing me." 

Her eyes widened slightly and he almost wanted to laugh as she realized it was an exaggeration. Not by much though, if he was honest to himself.

She asked quietly, "Are you sure you want me?"

"Yes," he said. "I know it won't make things any easier for you and your clan, but I will be your family. You...you have no idea how beautiful you are, do you? Not just those eyes, though your eyes are utterly gorgeous, but all of you. You're so kind and you just believe so much in the good in everyone. I've had my own brother turn on me for gold, but you risk your life for complete strangers. You make me believe that I can be a better man. You make me a better man."

She smiled nervously. "Really?"

"I want to marry you."

Merrill kissed him, throwing her arms around his neck. 

She whispered in his ear, "Then bond with me, right here, right now."

"Are you sure?"

She beamed at him as she pulled his nightshirt over her head, tossing it to the floor. He laid her down in the sheets and looked over her slender frame. He kissed down her chest before settling between her thighs. He kissed her inner thighs before moving to the bud of her sex. She gasped out as she opened herself to him. He licked and sucked, his hands still on her hips. She moaned his name as he slid a finger into her. She clenched around him and he continued his task, thrusting his fingers into her while he pleasured that little pearl between her legs. She cried out and her body pulsed around him. He continued until her legs were shaking and his jaw grew tired. He kissed her trembling thighs and looked down at his sated lover. 

He panted. "If you want, we can still-"

She pulled him down onto her, kissing him hard. She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding herself against him. He kissed her tenderly, stroking the sensitive tip of an ear as he slowly led his cock into her. She gasped and he stopped.

"Are you okay?" He whispered.

"It's strange," she admitted, "but I like it."

"Let me know if I'm hurting you."

"I will, keep going."

She relaxed around him and he slid fully into her. She winced and he held her, kissing her neck. Then he began to move in her. They were utterly entangled in each other, making it difficult to thrust into her fully, but he felt so close to her that he didn't want to switch positions.

Until she started moaning again, pleading with him in Elvish. He pushed her thighs apart and lifted her hips to sit flush against his. He buried himself in her again and again, desperate for every part of her. He groaned her name until he was hoarse. She called for him when she came a second time, digging her nails into his back. Her cries proved too much for him and he jutted forward, trying to keep his thrusts even. As much as he wanted to pound into her, he restrained himself.

But then she pleaded with him to finish inside of her and he lost control. She held him close to her as he spilled into her, whispering her name again and again against her skin. They parted as he softened and Merrill pondered at the state of the sheets.

"It's really a messy business, isn't it?"

Varric chuckled, "It can be, sweetheart."

"So what do dwarves do to get married?" She asked eagerly.

"Nothing as exciting," he apologized. "Usually we give presents and swear on stones. I'm Andrastian, but I don't need to get married in a Chantry. Honestly, I don't even want to risk bringing you into one right now. The Dalish way is good enough for me. But I do have a present for you, if you want it."

"Of course I do!"

Varric rolled out of the bed and fumbled in his desk drawer. He came back with a simple gold chain with an emerald pendant. He clasped it around her neck, letting it hang just above her naked breasts. 

"I had this for awhile, just in case," he said sheepishly.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, touching it lovingly.

"I figured a ring would just get in the way," he explained. "If you don't like it-"

"It's perfect," she said, beaming. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever owned. Oh Varric...I love you."

"I love you, my darling wife," he said, grinning. 

She flushed and kissed him tenderly. "Ar lath ma." 

***

Marriage suited Varric better than anyone could have expected. He had Merrill's house fixed up and mostly moved in, keeping his room at the Hanged Man for business. The elves were amused at a dwarf living in the Alienage, but Varric charmed them all in time. 

As an Andrastian's wife, Merrill supported his faith and encouraged him to take care of himself. Varric gained a little weight, slept better, and overall a much happier man. Doing his duties as a Dalish Elf's husband, he provided for her every need and he did his very best to get his wife with child, not minding the attempts. 

And to both of their surprise, Merrill was pregnant by their six-month anniversary. It was the first of three children who would be born by the time of the Kirkwall Rebellion, Merrill quite far along with the fourth when they fled the city. 

Varric left all those parts out when the Inquisition tracked him down, hoping to protect his family. Cassandra was told great lies about Merrill's naivety and he threw in a lot more blood magic to keep it interesting. The poor Seeker nearly died of shock when one day Merrill made her way to Skyhold, their five children in tow. Varric met his youngest son for the first time, having no idea that Merrill was pregnant when he was first kidnapped. The tearful reunion made it impossible for her to express her anger at him, but she was about to lose her temper. 

The last straw was Varric's six-year-old daughter asking Cassandra for her autograph. Apparently, his children knew all about her and Bethany was a big fan. Cassandra growled and signed the girl's little book, all the time choosing the words she would later scream at the child's father.


End file.
